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Archive for the ‘parenthood’ Category

~Written by Samantha Freds

I don’t cry easily, but there is one thing that inevitably brings me to tears: a soldier’s homecoming. The videos are everywhere this time of year. Whether it happens at a football game, a school event or the front door, military men and women reunited with their families gets me every single time.

Perhaps that’s because I know the feeling.

“Sami! Wake up, Daddy’s here!” My brother tried to shake me awake. “You better not be joking,” I groggily replied, afraid to get my hopes up. We hadn’t seen Dad for months and we were not planning to see him that weekend, either. He was stationed in Florida at the time and we were visiting Grandma in Connecticut.

Dad had served twenty-one years in the Air Force before becoming a pastor. He was still in the Air Force Reserves while pastoring a small congregation in New York. He put thousands of miles on the car traveling from New York to Massachusetts, where he was stationed, to fulfill both duties. But after September 11th he was called up to active duty. That’s what eventually sent him to Florida.

My mom, brother and I were scheduled to see Dad around Thanksgiving. Our plane tickets were purchased and the countdown had begun. Instead, that early morning in Connecticut, our family had our own soldier’s homecoming moment. There’s no video, but I don’t think any of us need one to remember it.

Dad had been deactivated early and drove through the night to see us. Although he would continue traveling from New York to Massachusetts until his reserve time was complete, we wouldn’t be separated for months at a time again. I know my mom has never been happier to cancel a trip to sunny Florida! And, thanks to an inner ear infection that hit me at the perfect time, our plane tickets were refunded. God’s blessing in disguise!

I can relate to the sacrifice of our military men and women from a child’s perspective and I know I’m one of the lucky ones. I praise God often that my dad came home.

To all the veterans and their families: Thank you for your sacrifice and service.

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~ Written by Viki Rife

I ran into him in the doctor’s waiting room. I was a young mom bringing in yet another sick child. “Jack” was several decades older. I had taught his children some years ago; recently I’d heard he was terminally ill. He updated me on his family and asked about mine. Then he started to talk about some mutual friends.

“I hear they’re starting their own business,” he said. “I’ve begged them not to do it.”

He must have seen the surprised look on my face. He explained, “I’ve seen what this particular industry does to you. I understand the draw of financial success, but I also understand what it will take to make a success of it. They have young children, and I can guarantee someday they’ll regret giving up this precious time with them.”

For the next 20 minutes he talked wistfully about the regrets he carried at this stage in his life. “I was too busy for my family. My kids didn’t really have a father. My wife didn’t have a husband. I was so determined to make a success of it.”

He sighed. “I did! My wife will be fine financially. But I have failed in what mattered the most: investing in my own heart and in the hearts of my family and those around me. I was a Christian, but didn’t have time to invest in my own spiritual growth, let alone in that of others. I have very little to show when I stand before the Lord. It grieves me deeply.”

The nurse called him and Jack started toward the exam rooms. Then, very deliberately, he turned and added, “I’ve put off the significance of Mark 8:36: ‘For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?’ I can’t undo it.”

I think of him whenever I hear that verse. It has especially been on my mind in the context of the Soul Care class we offer in various parts of the country. The care of our souls is the wisest investment God calls us to make as humans, but so often we push it to the background or think we can save it for later. But the time to invest is now!

If you are interested in more information about the Soul Care class, or if you would like your church to host it, go to www.ignite3126.org

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~ Written By Viki Rife

“Mommy will go to the hospital and be there for several nights, then come home with our new baby,” I told my two-year-old daughter enthusiastically. She had been eagerly anticipating the arrival of “her baby,” but it was the first time I had explained to her that I had to go away for a while. My goal was to break the hard parts of the experience into small sections for her to digest.

“Will I go with you?” she asked. I explained that she would be at Grandma’s for a while, and then Daddy would pick her up and bring her home.

A look of horror swept over her face. “But what will I eat?” she asked plaintively.

I had to laugh. Cooking was not a part of my husband’s skill set. But I have to admit, there was a side of me that thought: I’m her mother. Doesn’t she even trust me to take care of her? Have I ever left her to figure out how to get her needs met? Doesn’t she realize that isn’t her job?

She looked so forlorn, I had to stop and take her seriously. I explained that Daddy could fix her cereal and toast, and that he could make hot dogs, too. She still looked rather doubtful.

I was reminded of that incident recently when my mind was in a turmoil over a rough situation. I had become so obsessed with solving the problem (which actually had no solution I could control) that the foundation of my world was shaking. At one point of desperation, I sensed God asking me: “Who told you that you’re responsible for fixing this? I certainly didn’t.”

The memory of my daughter’s distressed face flashed through my mind. “I’m doing the same thing to God,” I thought. Then I remembered the rest of the story.

When the time came for me to go to the hospital, we dropped our daughter off at my parents’ house. We allowed Grandma to break the news to her that she would be able to spend the night, as we had planned to do all along. Our daughter was overjoyed. “Grandma knows what I like to eat,” she reassured me as we left. My solution to her problem was much more satisfying than she could have imagined.

Now when I start feeling like it’s my responsibility to solve problems that are out of my control, I try to remind myself, “God has it figured out. Maybe I’ll end up at His version of Grandma’s house!”

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~ Written by Viki Rife

At 16 I graduated high school and got a job at a local hospital. One of my responsibilities involved making sure the radiologists had film cassettes loaded with new film.

One afternoon I got a call from a radiologist who was using the portable x-ray machine in the operating room. He needed more cassettes. I was to meet him in the scrub-room to deliver them.

When I walked into the room, my eye caught sight of the steel counter to the left. To my amazement, it contained five or six dead infants in various stages of development. I remember one had black wavy hair. My first thought was, “how could that many stillbirths occur in one day in our small town?” My teenage mind was horrified.

Just then, a nurse came out of the OR. She saw me staring over at the counter and frowned. “I don’t know why people can’t clean up after themselves,” she grumbled. She went over to the counter, grabbed a trash can, and with one quick move swept all the little bodies into it. Then she pulled out the bag and tied it shut.

I remember thinking, “How will the parents know which child is theirs when they’re ready to bury them?” My mind absolutely could not absorb the fact that the recent ruling of Roe vs. Wade had anything to do with it.

I hid the trauma deep inside and never told a soul.

But my heart was left very vulnerable when it comes to baby deaths. I grieve them with an intensity that has always seemed more than what the average person does. When my own granddaughter died in the womb the week before her due date, I was absolutely numb for two months. Something painful was stirring. It took me a while to figure out what it was. It was the memory of those beautiful dead babies.

Finally, as part of grieving my granddaughter, I allowed myself to examine the incident from so long ago and started processing the emotions that surround it. I was eventually able to share that operating room experience with my husband and a few trusted friends. They have been balm to my aching heart.

I thought I had worked through the trauma. Then last month a couple very close to me lost their baby at 25 weeks. The mother was induced, and I waited in the hallway while the baby was delivered. I saw the doctor leave the room, and a few minutes later a nurse came out carrying a tied trash bag.

The memory from that long-ago day hit like a fist to the stomach. I ran to the bathroom to throw up.

At that point I realized that my horror of living in a society that throws away its children is never going to go away. Thankfully, I soon was able to go into the room and see the baby in her father’s arms. She had not been in that bag. Her tiny body was being treated with dignity and respect by her grieving parents. And, in a strange way, I found the scene comforting. Parents should care that much about their child.

We cannot change our society, no matter what laws we pass. New York’s recent legalization of full-term abortion is only a symptom of our disease of devaluing human life. May God’s people go to our knees in prayer for our society, and may we reach out to help people see the God in whose image they’re made!

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~ Written by Viki Rife

I’ll never forget the day a fifteen-year-old girl who had started attending our youth group told me, “I need to find a boyfriend so I can get pregnant.” Hiding my surprise, I asked her why. Through tears she said, “Because I need a baby so I have someone to always love me.”

We may smile at her naïve perspective, but the truth is that as parents, we are very concerned about how our children feel toward us. It takes great emotional maturity to resist parenting based on the question, “How can I make sure my child likes me?” I call it “the foolish parenting question.”

Many, many parents in our society are living by that question. They can’t bear the thought that their child might be unhappy with them, so they knock themselves out to please the child. When the effort wears them out, they end up blowing up at the child for being so demanding. Then they feel guilty and the cycle begins all over again as they try to get back into their child’s good graces.

For those of us who understand that our children, like ourselves, were created to give God glory, the wise question to ask is, “How can I prepare my children to be God-honoring adults?” It changes the way we respond in every situation of their lives.

When something is hard for them, we will help them develop an attitude of perseverance instead of doing it for them. When others hurt their feelings, we will show them grace while using the opportunity to teach forgiveness and help them develop healthy conflict-resolution skills. When they mismanage their allowance, we will lovingly but firmly let them go without what they want so they know irresponsibility has consequences. With each new challenge, our thought should be, “How can I use this to prepare them to cope well with future problems? How can I show them that this is a way to bring glory to God?”

In the end, we find the parents who ask the wise question while rearing their children often end up with children who appreciate and like them. The ones who ask the foolish question many times have children who are demanding and contemptuous.

It is the wise parenting question that helps us “train up a child in the way he should go.” Our children are not created to make us feel good, although that may be a pleasant side effect. We must always be mindful that God put our children in our lives so we could teach them to give glory to Him.

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